


Terok Nor

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Casablanca Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angry Sex, Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Garak being a little shit, Getting Back Together, Kes/Neelix but for like two seconds, Kira/Odo if ya squint, M/M, Occupation of Bajor, Post-Break Up, bartender!jim, believe me I’m well fucking aware, ya I know DS9 did a Casablanca episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Everyone knows that James Kirk sticks his neck out for no one. But in the middle of a space station orbiting Bajor, controlled by Cardassians, it was the last place Jim expected to seehimagain.





	1. Everyone Comes To Jim's

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’ve seen “Profit and Loss”, but why watch Quark chase after Miss One Episode character when you can read Jim and Spock being angsty pining idiots for six chapters? Yayyyyyyyyyy.

_Occupied Bajor, 2367—Cardassian mining station Terok Nor._

Everyone knew James Kirk stuck his neck out for no one.

Every day, Cardassians and other members of various alien races came through his bar. They bought their drinks, they visited the holosuites, they played dabo, and they left. Jim got involved with no one past taking their money, and that was the way he liked it.

But of course, as he should have predicted, trouble came through the door—in the form of one Gul Dukat.

“Afternoon, James,” said Elim Garak, sitting at the bar on his usual stool at the far end. For a spy, Jim had never met someone so cheerful. “How’s the best bartender on Terok Nor this fine day?”

“The _only_ bartender on Terok Nor is doing as well as any other day, Garak,” Jim replied, instinctively pouring up the Cardassian’s usual order.

Garak chuckled. “Oh, James, ever the curmudgeon. Have you met the esteemed Gul Dukat of Central Command?”

Jim looked up and saw the party that Garak had brought with him today. “Afternoon, gentlemen. Can I get you anything?”

“Just a round of kanar for my men and me,” Dukat replied. He sniffed at Jim. “So you must be the famous James Kirk, the human bartender, hm?”

“I must be,” Jim replied disinterestedly, filling several glasses with kanar.

“Whatever are you doing so far from Earth?”

“Pouring your drinks at the moment.”

Garak laughed again. “Didn’t I tell you, Dukat? He’s hysterical.”

“We’ll take a table on the mezzanine, if you don’t mind, Mister Kirk,” Dukat said.

“Suit yourself.” Jim nudged the Ferengi behind the bar with him. “Take over while I carry these upstairs, Rom.”

The Cardassians settled themselves at a table overlooking the whole bar, and Jim set down the tray on their table. “This is certainly a fine establishment you have here, Mr. Kirk,” Dukat said. “You must do well in the bartending business…or perhaps, other business?”

“What do you mean by that?” Jim asked.

“There are rumors that you are in smuggling. That you’re providing the Bajoran workers with supplies. Weapons for a workers’ revolt.”

Jim laughed once, scoffingly. “They’ve been saying that since I opened my doors. That I’m secretly a Federation agent. Well, your men have searched my cargo trucks enough times by now to learn that all they’ll find is booze and olives.”

“I hear that they don’t even search your supply carriers anymore. They consider it a waste of time.”

“It is. There’s no amount of money that either the Cardassians or the Bajorans could offer me that would make me pick a side in this godforsaken dispute.”

“Really?” Dukat raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Mr. Kirk, from where on Earth do you herald?”

“America. A little patch of wheat called Iowa.”

“How quaint. Didn’t your America once revolt from its own overseers, Germany?”

“It was England, and yes, we did.”

“Do you suppose the Bajoran rebels will succeed in doing the same as your American redcoats?”

Jim smirked. “Only if your side’s as good at controlling the masses as you are at half-remembering facts about Earth history.”

“Give it up, Dukat. Our friendly bartender here is neutral about everything,” Garak said, clearly amused with the whole exchange.

“So it would seem,” Dukat uttered. “However…you weren’t always neutral, were you?” He pulled out a PADD and showed him a file on the screen. “Garak’s friends at the Obsidian Order were ever so kind to compile a dossier on you.”

“Though it was rather difficult gathering the information,” Garak added. “One would swear you prefer being an enigma.”

“If it discourages stupid questions, then yes, I prefer it,” Jim muttered, scrolling though his file.

“Apparently you cannot return to your precious Earth for deserting Starfleet—which both your mother and father were a part of,” Dukat stated.

Jim shrugged. “I realized the family business wasn’t for me.”

“You were stationed on Vulcan, in the city of Shi’Kahr. But then you suddenly disappeared. Two years later you’re working here. One might wonder why you left so capriciously.”

Jim smiled bitterly. “Your intelligence leaves something to be desired, Gul Dukat.”

“Really?” said Dukat, in surprise. “What have we gotten wrong?”

Jim pointed to a piece of information in the dossier. “My eyes are hazel, not brown.” He picked up the tray from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” He turned and walked back downstairs.”

Garak chuckled as Jim disappeared. “Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way…to business, gentlemen?”

“The scandal sheet, _The Aspiration_, is starting to stir up some very worrying action amongst the resistance cells,” reported one of Dukat’s men. “We have yet to determine the whereabouts or the identity of its writer, this ‘Selek’.”

“It must be a Vulcan,” Garak said. “I don’t see one of the Romulans leading an uprising of the lower classes.”

“Of course, we have no proof,” Dukat sighed. “And we cannot risk dispute with the Federation. If we were to arrest one of their citizens, they might suddenly be motivated to ally themselves with the Bajorans.”

“There’s but one Vulcan presiding on Bajor right now. And unfortunately, he’s untouchable,” Garak said. “He’s of a prominent Vulcan family, and the son of two Federation ambassadors.”

“But we’re keeping a steady eye on him,” Dukat added.

“When is he supposed to arrive, Gul?” asked one of the men.

Dukat smiled at the doorway of the bar down below. “Right now.”

A man with sleek black hair and pointed ears had entered the bar, with a young Bajoran woman at his elbow. “That’s Kira Nerys,” whispered one of Dukat’s men. “She’s said to be a terrorist leader. Why, we could have him arrested just for being in her company-!”

“Patience, Morak,” Dukat chuckled darkly. “Sooner or later that Vulcan will slip up. And Central Command will be there when he does.”

The Vulcan looked up, as if he knew he was being discussed. His sharp brown eyes locked onto the table of Cardassians. Dukat and Garak lifted their glasses, smiling at him menacingly. The Vulcan nodded curtly, then gestured to Kira to sit down at a table with him.

Rom rushed over to the newcomers. “Welcome to _Jim’s_. I’m Rom, I’ll be your server. Can I take your orders?”

“Spiced tea for me, if you have it,” said the Vulcan.

“And I’ll have a kava juice,” Kira added.

“Right away,” said Rom, rushing off for the replicators.

Kira poked her dining partner’s wrist as soon as the Ferengi was gone. “That table up there,” she whispered. “They were waiting for you. They _know_.”

“I suspect they do, Miss Kira. However, there is not much they can do about it. We have given away nothing since our arrival besides our drink orders.”

“I don’t like it, Spock,” Kira growled. “Believe me, Cardassians have arrested people on mere suspicion before. Lack of evidence never stops the Obsidian Order.”

“_Kaiidth,_” Spock said calmly, just before Rom returned with the replicated drinks. He took a sip of his warm tea and sighed. “It is never as satisfactory as the real thing.”

“Sorry. If _Jim’s_ stocked the real stuff, I’d have brought it out.”

“_Jim’s_…” Spock paused. “Jim is the proprietor of this establishment?”

“You bet,” said Rom. “He is the only hew-mon I have ever met.”

“Indeed,” muttered Spock, pensively taking another drink from his mug. “Miss Kira, I would encourage you to finish your kava juice most expediently.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Kira, glaring out of the corner of her eye at Dukat’s table.

* * *

Jim was finishing stocking glasses when he noticed the replicator log. “Who ordered spiced tea?” he said in bewilderment to Rom.

“Just that Vul-can over there,” Rom said, pointing absentmindedly over his shoulder to Spock and Kira’s table.

Jim’s head whipped around and saw the man sitting there. His entire body seemed to deflate. “Excuse me,” he muttered, disappearing into his office.

_What the **hell** is he doing here?_


	2. As Time Goes By

“S’Chn T’Gai Spock.”

Spock looked up and saw Dukat and Garak looming over their table. He nodded to them politely. “You have me at a disadvantage, sirs.”

“Gul Dukat, of Central Command. And this is my liaison with the Obsidian Order, Elim Garak.”

“For a spy, you are rather open about your identity,” Spock commented.

“My dear sir, the best kind of secret is an open one,” Garak said with an impish smile.

“We’d like to personally welcome you to Terok Nor. We understand you’ve been doing an independent scientific expedition on Bajor for the Vulcan Science Academy for the past year.”

“That’s right, sir. Bajor has many rare physiological features that the VSA finds intriguing.”

“Of course,” Dukat said with a menacing leer. Without taking his gaze from the Vulcan, he slithered into a seat beside Kira, who imperceptibly curled away from him in barely concealed disgust and hatred. “Do you know a man named Selek, Mister Spock?” the Gul asked.

Spock’s steady Vulcan composure gave away nothing. “Why, no. Should I?”

“You mean, you haven’t come across _The Aspiration_? It’s quite the scandal sheet.”

“I’m but a simple scientist, Gul. And you know the Federation and its citizens are sworn to a policy of non-interference. It’s our Prime Directive.”

“Of course…well, our intelligence has heard whispers that this elusive Selek may be trying to leave Bajor via this station, to recruit aid from the Federation in leading a Bajoran rebellion.”

“How alarming,” Spock said. “And presumably, you’re taking security measures to prevent this.”

“Oh certainly. In fact, no ships except for Cardassian vessels or vessels specially approved by Central Command will be allowed to leave Terok Nor indefinitely.”

Spock evenly took a sip of his tea. “A wise move,” he muttered.

Gul Dukat’s eyes shone with a nasty glint. “I apologize if this upsets your plans of going home, Mister Spock.”

“Quite alright,” Spock replied. “All the more time for me to enjoy Bajor’s beautiful vistas.”

“Of course,” Dukat said again. He rose from his chair. “I’m afraid I must be going, but it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you, sir.” Spock raised his mug. “To your health.”

Dukat bowed his head, then turned and left, with Garak following behind him.

Kira didn’t breathe till they were gone. She smacked Spock’s arm lightly. “I told you! How are we going to get you off this station now?!” she whispered urgently.

“Breathe, Miss Kira,” Spock said. “A public panic attack will not help us now.”

“I’m not panicking!” Kira snapped. She crossed her arms and then angrily took a sip from her juice.

Spock noticed that his tea had gone cold. He sighed and looked around for the Ferengi waiter, when his gaze connected with a pair of arresting hazel eyes.

Jim stared back at him from behind the bar, his expression guarded and wary.

Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other across the bar. The lull of the patrons died away in Spock’s ears.

The Vulcan slowly stood up.

“Spock? Where are you going?” Kira said, but he didn’t register her voice as he strode over to the bar. The human swallowed and took a small step back.

Spock’s voice was soft, yet for Jim it was the loudest noise in the crowded tavern. “Hello, Jim,” he said.

Jim nodded. “Spock,” he replied politely, his gaze dropping to his shoes.

“I am…surprised to see you here.”

“My name’s above the door.”

Spock nodded. “It is. I didn’t notice…but I meant that I was surprised to see you on Terok Nor.”

“I’m not exactly welcome in the Federation anymore. Starfleet doesn’t look too kindly on deserters.” Jim pointedly did not look at Spock.

Spock’s shoulders untensed slightly. “Jim, I…”

“Don’t.” Jim swallowed. “Just…don’t.” He picked up a tray of glasses and disappeared.

Spock felt a lump in his throat, but he pushed it down, and went back to his table. “Miss Kira, let us go.”

Kira stood up and followed him out. Jim remerged, his tray under his arm. He looked at the empty spot by the bar where Spock had been standing, then at his and Kira’s vacated table. He sighed heavily. He walked over to the bar where Rom was cleaning glasses. “Pour me a brandy,” he muttered.

“But boss, you never drink on the job!”

“I do today, get me a drink,” Jim snapped. Rom quickly poured him a finger of the amber liquid and set it down before him. Jim tossed it back quickly and grumbled to himself, “Of all the gin joints on all the space stations in all the galaxy…he had to walk into mine.”

Rom poured him another and Jim swallowed some of it. Then he reached for the bottle and carried it and his glass into his office, ordering the computer to lock the door.

He sat at his desk and rubbed his face. He refilled his glass and sipped the brandy, wishing desperately that he could drown those memories. He sighed heavily. “Computer...play ‘As Time Goes By’, Frank Sinatra, 1962.”

“_The song ‘As Time Goes By’ has been security locked from being played_.”

“Security override, Kirk-Alpha-Alpha-Zero-Four-Three. Play it, Computer.”

There was a pause of silence, and then...

“_You must remember this. A kiss is just a kiss. A sigh is just a sigh...the fundamental things apply, as time goes by..._”

* * *

“_..and when two lovers woo_,” Jim crooned, swaying with Spock in his arms, “_they still say I love you. On that you can rely. No matter what the future brings, as time goes by._”

“You are intoxicated, _ashayam_,” Spock softly chuckled, nuzzling his honey-colored hair.

“So are you.” Jim kissed his chocolate-flavored mouth. “But just a little.” Then he moved down and kissed Spock’s neck. “How’d I get so lucky to be stationed with the most beautiful man on Vulcan?”

“Second-most, perhaps, if we are including yourself in this sample,” Spock rumbled.

“Mmm, you sweetie-pie.” Jim smiled, resting his cheek on Spock’s sternum.

It was 2364, and Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk had been stationed as a Starfleet security officer on Vulcan, in the metropolis of Shi’Kahr. He’d initially been disappointed with his assignment. He wanted to travel among the stars, not be trapped on the ground.

But then one day he’d met a young, dark-haired, brown-eyed professor at the Vulcan Science Academy, and he realized he was right where he was supposed to be.

Jim poured himself another glass of champagne and replicated Spock another hot chocolate. He clinked his flute against Spock’s mug and murmured, “Here’s lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

Jim had never been happier in his whole life than when he was with Spock. Waking up in his arms in the morning, the sheets tangled around their naked limbs, combing his fingers through Spock’s bed-rumpled hair, kissing and caressing till they absolutely _had_ to roll out of bed. Stolen make-out sessions between Spock’s classes and Jim’s on-duty hours. Cooking and eating together at night, and curling up on the couch to watch old Earth movies afterward. It was completely perfect.

_By God, I’m going to ask this man to marry me._

Then one day, Jim’s PADD sent him a message to ruin it all.

“The Romulans are back,” said Jim faintly, staring at the screen. “And apparently some mysterious new threat has been destroying their outposts. Might not be long before it attacks the Federation too. So Starfleet wants all non-essential personnel...to report for duty. They’re putting me on a starship, Spock. The USS _Saratoga_.”

“Jim...” Spock whispered, rubbing his arms.

Jim shook his head. “Why now? Why did it have to happen _now?_”

“We always knew you could be transferred at a moment’s notice. And this is what you wanted, to be stationed on a ship, to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations.”

“Yeah, but not anymore!” Jim exclaimed. “Not now, not after..._you_.”

Spock breathed a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close. “The entire universe is crumbling, and we choose now to fall in love,” he mumbled somberly.

Jim shook his head against Spock’s chest. “I’m not going. It’s their war, not ours. The Federation be damned.”

“Jim,” Spock whispered in surprise.

“I’m happy, dammit! I’m not ruining that!”

“They will arrest you as a deserter.”

“Then...we’ll just leave.”

“What?” Spock gasped.

“We’ll leave the planet, go somewhere outside Federation space. Hell, we can catch transport for somewhere outside the quadrant if we have to.”

“And what about my work at the Academy?” Spock asked quietly. “My life is here, Jim. I love you very much, but my work is very important to me.”

“You can teach science anywhere! We don’t have to be separated.” Jim kissed him. “I’m not leaving you, Spock. That’s that.” He hugged him again, like he was unwilling to let him go.

Spock stared at the wall over Jim’s shoulder. “Alright, _ashayam_,” he said, his voice sounding odd. “We will leave. You arrange our transport. I will get my affairs in order and meet you at the shuttle station.”

But on the day they were supposed to leave, Jim was left standing in the shuttle bay, bag in his hand and an extra transport pass in his hand. Spock was nowhere to be seen.

“Last call for passenger carrier 48663 to the Bajoran system,” said a computerized voice over the intercom. Jim took one last look around the terminal for his lover, but to no avail. Swallowing a large lump in his throat, he turned and boarded.

“_Boss?...Er, boss?_”

* * *

Jim slowly opened his eyes. His neck was stiff from resting his head on his desk. He blinked several times, wincing as the light shined in his eyes. “Computer, lights as 50%,” he muttered, and the room dimmed. He looked up at Rom blearily, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, Rom. Musta...fallen asleep. What time is it?”

“0300 hours, boss,” said the Ferengi. “I closed down the bar. All the glasses are clean, the chairs are stacked, the floors are swept-”

“Remind me to give you a raise,” Jim grunted, standing and cracking his back. “Go home, Rom. You’ve done good.”

The Ferengi smiled, his pointy teeth oddly adorable. “Goodnight, boss.” He bowed slightly and scuttled out of the office.

Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes. God, he was a miserable bastard.

* * *

“I’ve got it,” said Kira, bursting into Spock’s dwelling without so much as a hello or good morning. Spock was rather used to the Bajoran’s blusterous nature and her prerogative to enter his home without knocking, so he was unstartled from his morning meditation. Kira crossed in front of him, also accustomed to his rock-like nature. “The supply ship that delivers to the barkeep on Terok Nor. The Cardassians supposedly don’t check it out. We can convince that human bartender to smuggle you aboard.”

Spock’s eyes snapped open. “Quite impossible, Miss Kira. Mister Kirk won’t help us.”

“How do you know?”

_Because he despises me, and with good reason._ “It is...complicated.”

“Listen, I’ve asked around about him, and from what I’ve heard about him, he’s entirely self-interested. But the way I see it, he won’t say no to a bribe.”

“If it involves me, he will want no part of it.”

Kira squinted at him curiously, sitting down on the floor across from him. “I thought you seemed to know him. The way he looked at you in the bar...it’s like you murdered his puppy.”

“We have a history. In fact, it is rather incredible that we should meet now, after all this time.” Spock looked at his lap. “I truly thought we’d never meet again.”

Kira’s eyes widened in realization, but she kept quiet about her discovery. “Maybe you could use your...history to our advantage. After all, if he could still look at you like _that_...you must’ve had some effect on him.”

“I most certainly did,” Spock replied, rising and padding over to the replicator to make himself some tea. “And that is exactly why he will not help us.”

Kira sighed and got to her feet. “Look. As much as I hate to admit it, we’ve been fighting the Cardassians for nearly a century...and we’re worse off than when they enslaved us. I don’t want to accept outside help--because who knows? The Federation could be just as bad as the Cardassians--but I can’t deny that they’re our only hope of freedom. _You’re_ our only hope. If we can get you off planet, back to your home, if you can manage to get them to listen to our plight...then we just might have a damn chance. If you stay here for much longer, the Cardassians _will_ find a reason to take you in. You really think you’ll ever be able to leave once that happens?”

Spock took a deep breath, surrendering. “I will try, Miss Kira. It is the best I can do.”

* * *

“We’re not open yet,” Jim called, not bothering to look up as the front doors of the bar slid open and closed. The human was peering down at his books through his small, antique reading glasses, going over inventory.

“I see you still wear your spectacles.”

Jim froze at the rich baritone. He fixed a scowl on his face before turning around to face his ex-lover. “What are you doing here?”

Spock padded slowly across the bar toward his table. He nodded the chair catty-cornered from Jim’s. “May I?”

Jim scoffed, taking off his glasses. “I can’t stop you.”

Spock sank into the seat, staring at Jim with sorrow filled eyes. Pitying eyes. “I’ll ask you again, why are you here,” Jim said, glaring at him. “I know it’s not for the booze.”

“I came...because you are owed an explanation.”

“Save your excuses, _sweetheart_,” Jim sneered mockingly. “I don’t give a damn what you have to say to me. Because I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then listen,” Spock said, his voice growing a bit more forceful. “Because I _will_ say my peace, whether you are receptive or not.”

Jim scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Three years certainly is a long time. The Spock I remember was tender and mild...you’ve gotten some callous on you.”

“I am not the only one who has changed.”

Jim laughed bitterly. “Yeah well...when the love of your life leaves you standing in a transport terminal with a comical look on his face, it tends to make you a little sour.”

“That is what I came here to talk to you about.”

“...Alright. Go ahead.”

Spock took a deep breath. “I did not go to you that night. But believe me, with everything I was, I wanted to.”

“Oh, and what stopped you? Traffic?” said Jim sarcastically.

Spock frowned at him. “You were the love of my life, Jim. I loved you as soon as I met you—because I saw who you were. A protector, a leader...a hero. A man with a hunger for knowledge and adventure. I saw the fire inside you, and I loved it.”

“And now I tend bar in a dirt factory. Some grand adventurer I am.”

“Yes. Because...you lost yourself, James.”

Jim squinted at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you became someone else. You lived only for love. You abandoned your duties, your principles...you were not the man I fell for. The Jim I loved would not have run like a coward. And he certainly would not have asked me to give up my home, my work, and my family.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open. “Wait a minute-”

“Jim, letting you go was the hardest thing I ever did. But if I had gone with you, I would not only have lost you, I would’ve lost myself.”

“You...you _bastard!_” Jim exclaimed, standing up. “You drop me like a hot potato, then show up here three years later to tell me it’s _my_ fault?! Because I was _too_ romantic?”

“That was not romance, Jim. It was obsession. Selfishness.”

“_Selfish?!_” Jim turned scarlet. “So, what, I wasn’t _noble_ enough for you? I didn’t go quietly into that good night? You remember the ship they were going to put me on? The _Saratoga_? Guess what? A year ago, the Borg blasted it to smithereens! You’d preferred I _died?!_”

“NO!” Spock shouted, rising now too. “I’d _preferred_ that the Romulans never declared war. I’d _preferred_ that the Borg had never come to the Alpha Quadrant. I’d _preferred_ that the man I loved never had to leave me!”

Jim got real close and hissed in Spock’s face: “You ended it, lover. Not me. Remember that. Now get the hell _off_ my station!”

Spock glared down at him. “Believe me,” he said in a shockingly soft voice, “I shall do so at my earliest convenience.” He turned and headed toward the door.

“Aren’t you glad you finally got that off your chest?” Jim called mockingly after him. The doors slid shut behind the Vulcan. Jim grabbed a vase off of the table and threw it against the wall. It shattered all over the ground. Jim breathed in and out heavily, then covered his face with his hands. “_Fuck_,” he whispered into them.

From his secret perch in the shadows above, Garak silently raised an eyebrow, watching as Jim calmed himself and headed into the back to grab a broom. So the bartender and the terrorist had a tumultuous romantic history...oh how he loved a good soap opera.


	3. Do Not Pass Go

“Ahh, Mister Spock, do come in,” said Gul Dukat with a sinister smile as the Vulcan entered his office. Spock rather felt like the proverbial fly, walking into the spider’s parlor.

“May I offer you a drink?” Dukat offered.

“That’s kind, but no thank you.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard a rumor that Vulcans don’t imbibe alcohol. Is it true?”

“Since alcohol isn’t an intoxicant to us the same way it is to most humanoid species, there would be no logical reason to consume it,” Spock said.

“You know, I admire your people’s ideology,” said the Cardassian, steepling his fingers as he peered shrewdly at Spock. “Innovative and cunning. It’s lucky for the rest of us you became scientists and philosophers instead of conquerors.”

“I imagine in another reality we were,” Spock replied. “Before a certain point in history, Vulcans were rather ruthless. I can only imagine what my less tranquil ancestors would’ve done with warp capability and photon weaponry.”

“Hmm. Intriguing to think about, to say the least. But you’ve come here on business, haven’t you? I must admit, I’m a busy man, Mr. Spock, but for someone of your position, I was only too happy to make some time in my schedule.”

“I appreciate it greatly,” Spock said. “I’ve come seeking a visa. For passage out of the Bajoran system.”

“I see...” Dukat leaned back in his large swivel chair. “This fair planet not interesting to you anymore?”

“Bajor has a plethora of capsulating features, Gul. Enough to fill one with curiosity for a lifetime. But it’s time I went home, and submitted my observations to the Vulcan Science Academy. They’re very intrigued by this sector. And, to be perfectly honest, I know my mother misses me.”

“How sweet.” Dukat smirked. “You are of course aware of the embargo on ships leaving this sector for the time being, as we’ve not yet caught the terrorist Selek.”

“Except for specially approved ships by Central Command,” Spock added.

“Yes, except for those. I’m afraid that none of them are passenger ships.”

“Comfort means little to me. Put me on a cargo freighter. I will be able to find my way home once I leave this sector.”

“An interesting request. But I’m afraid I can’t grant it. Not until the terrorist threat is _eliminated_.” Dukat gave Spock a knowing leer. “I’m _terribly_ sorry, Mr. Spock. Your mother will just have to wait a bit longer.”

“Then I am sorry to have taken up your time,” Spock said calmly, standing up. “However, if circumstances are to change-”

“Believe me...” Dukat’s upper lip curled particularly nastily. “You’ll be the _first_ to know if Selek is arrested.”

Spock nodded curtly and exited the office.

Kira was waiting on the promenade. “I told you it wasn’t worth it. Now Dukat will be watching you like a hawk,” she growled, falling into step with Spock. “You’re _sure_ you couldn’t work something out with that bartender?”

“I think it would be prudent to forget about Mr. Kirk, Miss Kira,” Spock said quickly, the image of Jim’s lovely hazel eyes filled with bitterness and hatred coming back to him with a vengeance. “It’s a door that’s been closed that I can’t open. We will simply think of something else.”

Kira bit her lip. “Well...there is someone I know.”

“Really? Why have you not brought him up before now?”

“Because he’s employed by the Cardassians. I don’t know if he’s trustworthy.”

“You don’t trust anyone,” Spock pointed out with some degree of amusement.

“Well, the thing is, he may work for the Cardassians but he’s not one. He’s sort of a loner actually, like you. He’s a shapeshifter.”

“Is there any way possible that he would help us?”

Kira’s forehead wrinkled in contemplation. “Maybe...I’ll try to talk to him. I think it’s best you aren’t seen in my presence for awhile, for your own safety. If anyone’s a bigger target than you, it’s me. I’ll find a way to get a message to you if I get any more information. In the meantime...” Kira’s gaze softened a bit. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

“I will do my best,” Spock swore. He raised his hand in a Vulcan salute. “Good luck, Miss Kira.”

Kira nodded back, then slipped into the crowd and disappeared. Spock sighed, looking around him at the Cardassians soldiers and beaten-looking Bajoran laborers. They were..._defeated_.

Something had to be done. Something _would_ be done.

Jim was taking a stroll to visit a Bolian supplier to put in his next order, when he spotted Spock standing in the middle of the promenade. His stomach turned at the hurtful words he’d slung at Spock last night. Maybe he got so angry because what Spock was saying about him was true. Maybe that’s what he’d been denying all those years. Maybe that’s what he needed to hear.

Jim took a deep breath. _Prepare to eat crow, Kirk._ Then he caught sight of a vendor near where Spock was standing and thought to himself, _but there’s no reason I can’t sweeten the dish a little._

Hands behind his back in contrition, he slowly made his way over to Spock. “If you feeling peckish, may I suggest a jumja stick?” he asked, coming up beside him.

Spock’s eyes widened in surprise. Then they became guarded, bruised. Jim winced internally at that. “I thought you didn’t want to speak to me,” Spock said softly, turning his gaze away.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m still a bitter, miserable asshole...but I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was a complete monster. And I wish I could blame it on booze, but I was stone cold sober. So...I’m sorry.”

Spock shook his head. “I hurt you first. You have every right to hate me.”

“Maybe I hate myself more,” Jim mumbled. “For screwing everything up so badly. My career, my relationship with you...I have friends I haven’t seen in years. My brother and his family, they have no idea what happened to me. You were right, Spock. I was...I _am_ a coward. That idiot who asked you to leave your entire life behind and run away with him. You deserved better than him.”

“And you...you didn’t deserve to be abandoned like you were,” said Spock, stepping closer. “Perhaps this is our chance to part ways on better terms?”

Jim nodded, smiling a little. “I’d like that. Please, let me buy you that jumja stick.”

“What is this jumja stick you speak so highly of?” Spock inquired.

“Oh, you’re gonna love it. Come with me.” Jim nodded over to the stand. “Can I get a jumja stick, please?”

The vendor handed him a bright red, pyramid-shaped confection on a wooden stick, and Jim scanned his credit chip. He then handed the stick to Spock, who looked at it skeptically. “Well go on, try it,” Jim laughed. “You lick it, like a lollipop. If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it.”

Spock stick his tongue out and tentatively licked up the side. His eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. “It is quite delicious,” he stated. He took another lick. “I find its flavor similar to that of-”

“_Mangoes and roses_,” he and Jim said together. Spock turned to the human in surprise.

“I know, that’s the same exact thing I thought when I tried it the first time,” said Jim, buying himself another. “They pour the sap of the jumja tree into molds and let it harden. It’s basically like fruity candy. Anyway...I remembered how much you loved sweets, even if you didn’t let yourself indulge in them very often.” Jim smiled wistfully, remembering those days. Happier days.

Spock’s gaze softened, as if he too was feeling nostalgic for that time. “Well...thank you. For the...jumja stick.”

Jim nodded. “My pleasure.”

“With luck I’ll be going back to Federation space soon. Maybe we can remember our time on Shi’Kahr, and forget about Terok Nor. Not last night.”

With a soft, sad smile, Spock slowly turned away and slipped into the throng of people. Something in Jim’s belly tugged at him. _Go after him, you idiot. Don’t let him get away again._

Instead, Jim turned and went back to the bar, his business with the Bolian forgotten.

* * *

That night, in _Jim’s_, the bartender was approached by a young, petite woman with a short blonde bob and elflike ears. “Mister Kirk?” she said in a soft, gentle voice. “May I speak with you?”

“I can’t exactly stop you,” Jim said. “Get you a drink?”

“Oh, no, thank you...Mister Kirk, my name is Kes. I’m an Ocampa, from the Delta Quadrant.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes...my mate and I, Neelix...we set out to find a new home, since our planet’s atmosphere was damaged, and all the water dried up. But our ship was brought here by a mysterious anomaly in space...and we’ve been stuck here for the past six months.”

“Well it sounds like you’ve achieved your goal, then. You found a new home with plenty of rain on Bajor.”

Kes smiled reluctantly. “It’s not exactly ideal...in my corner of space, there are tribes of warmongering people known as the Kazon...they’re not that unlike the Cardassians. It’s not a place...where I want to raise my child.” Kes touched her stomach.

Jim studied her. “Why are you telling me all this, little bit?”

Kes looked up. “Well you see, Neelix is at the dabo table right now, betting all our savings, hoping desperately to double them. You see, a Ferengi Daimon offered us passage on his freight ship-”

“For the right price?” Jim guessed.

Kes nodded. “And a friend of yours suggested I ask for your...assistance.”

“I don’t have friends.”

“It was Mister Elim Garak?”

Jim frowned, then looked across the bar toward the dabo table where Garak was watching the game. He caught Jim’s eye and waved knowingly.

“Mister Garak said you were a kind man, a charitable man.”

“Mister Garak lied to you.”

“Oh _please_, Mr. Kirk,” Kes begged. “You have to help us.” She stared up at him with pleading blue eyes.

Jim pursed his lips. Then he lowered his voice and asked, “Which one is your partner?”

Kes beamed. “The one with the spots. Oh _thank_ you, Mr. Kirk.” She reached out and kissed his hand. “_Thank you_.”

Jim cleared his throat. “Yeah, just...take care of the baby.”

He came out from behind the bar, crossed the room to the dabo wheel, whispered something in Leeta’s ear, then rounded the table to an alien with spotted skin and bright yellow hair. “Green 24,” he muttered to him.

The alien looked in surprise, but shrugged and put his credits on the spot. Leeta spun the wheel, and a moment later...

“_DABO!_” everyone cheered, and Neelix looked as if he might cry with joy.

Jim smiled to himself and went back to the bar. But someone in the corner caught his eye and he froze.

Spock gave him a tiny, proud smile, and Jim realized the Vulcan must’ve been watching him and listening in with his superior Vulcan hearing. Jim blushed and looked away, hurrying back to the bar.

* * *

At the same time as all this was going on, Kira was meeting with her contact.

A tall humanoid figure with stiffly combed-back blonde hair and unusually smooth pink skin approached Kira’s table in the shadowy back of the bar. “Hello, Major,” he said in a gruff, yet soft voice.

Kira nodded back, offering a faint smile. “Odo.”

“I admit, I was surprised at your communiqué,” said the station’s security officer, sliding into a seat beside her. “Neither of us are particularly social people. So I surmised you want to ask a favor.”

“Sorry about the public setting,” said Kira. “If we set up something more secret, Dukat would be on us like flies on _al’borea_.”

“Indeed,” Odo mumbled. “I gather this is an illicit request?”

“Well..._hypothetically_...if someone wanted to smuggle something...or _someone_...out of this sector...could you assist in that?”

Odo sighed. “You know I don’t have much power there.”

“You work in security.”

“Yes, but I have nothing to do with ships, coming or going. I’m concerned when there’s a security breach on the station. There’s not much I could do for your hypothetical friend, apart from turning myself into a visa.”

Kira laughed humorlessly. “I knew it was a long shot. Thanks anyway, Odo.”

Odo tentatively put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help to you.”

Kira smiled back at him sadly. Then she looked over her shoulder across the room at Spock and shook her head. Spock nodded back gravely.

Suddenly, a Cardassian victory shanty began playing in the bar. A group of Cardassians who’d had just a little too much _kanar_ were singing loudly along with it. Kira scowled, and the other Bajoran patrons didn’t look too happy either.

Kira stood up. “Wait here,” she said to Odo. She marched over to the house band, which was taking a break. “Play the _harash te’vida_,” Kira ordered.

The band members looked at each other nervously. “Do it!” Kira snapped.

The band jumped and grabbed for their instruments. They began playing a reverent, inspiring melody, and Kira began singing the Bajoran words that went with it, turning to glare at the Cardassians. The Bajorans in the bar perked up at the sound and slowly joined in.

The song was considered a patriotic and religious anthem to the Bajoran people, before the Cardassians had come. It certainly seemed to inspire them now. The small group of Cardassians scowled and sang their song louder, but the Bajorans outnumbered them by a great deal, and soon the Cardassians were drowned out. Several Bajorans had righteous tears in their eyes.

Jim was watching the whole thing from his place behind the bar. Even though he didn’t much care for all the noise, he was impressed by the Bajorans’ gumption. When it was clear the Cardassians had lost the volume battle, Jim smiled to himself, typing his override code into the computer keypad to have the Cardassian music turned off. The Bajorans cheered in victory.

“That is _quite_ enough,” said a voice. Everyone looked up to see none other than Garak coming away from the dabo area, smirking with amusement. “This establishment is closed until further notice, under the order of Central Command,” he said smugly.

“On what charge?” Jim demanded, stomping out from behind the bar.

“I am shocked, _shocked_, to find gambling going on this place,” Garak declared.

Suddenly Leeta popped up at Garak’s elbow. “Sir, your winnings?”

“Ah, thank you, my dear,” said Garak, slipping the latinum into his pocket.

“You can’t make an order like that,” Odo hissed, striding over to him. “You have no authority on this station.”

“But Gul Dukat does, and as you can see by this form, he’s given me authorization to dole out discipline at my own discretion.” Garak showed Odo, and then Jim a slip of paper. “_Jim’s_ reopening is to be determined. You will all be made aware when the time comes. But for now, all patrons must get out, out!”

The Cardassian troops began ushering out enraged patrons, and Jim glared at Garak. “My bar’s never given you people trouble before,” he snapped. “I keep my head down.”

“And if you continue to keep your head down, you’ll be well rewarded,” Garak replied. “And I’d advise your Vulcan friend to keep his head down as well, if he wants to keep it all.”

Jim’s eyebrows shot up. “Vulcan? I barely know that guy,” he lied.

“Hmm. One wouldn’t guess it, from the row you two had last night in this very room.” Garak smirked and headed out the door. “Goodnight, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim was left standing in his mostly empty bar, struck dumb with fear.


	4. Just For Tonight

It was clear the Cardassians were cracking down on security, and everyone was feeling the heat. Jim brooded over his loss of profit (_You’re acting just like a Ferengi, Kirk_), but delivered his staff’s salaries the same as any other week. “You’re the best boss a Ferengi could hope for,” Rom said with a toothy grin.

“Yeah, you’re just the _sweetest_, Jimmy,” Leeta cooed, kissing him on the cheek.

Jim smiled faintly. “Yeah. Sweet. That’s me.”

Kira remained off the map for a little while, awaiting Spock’s next plan. Her associate Shakaar suggested they give up on any assistance from the Federation (Besides, did they really need a new dictating government taking over? How did they know the Federation wasn’t just as bad as the Cardassians?), but Kira wouldn’t give up hope. It was something that she had never felt before meeting the Vulcan and his ideals of freedom and peace, and she’d be damned if she gave up the brightest prospect they had of liberating their people once and for all.

Spock too stayed hunkered down in his guest dwelling on Bajor for an entire week. They could hardly accuse him of wrongdoing if he wasn’t doing anything at all.

He knew the only way back home was with Jim’s assistance. And he would find a way to get it.

So finally, Spock transported back to Terok Nor. He inquired after Jim’s accommodations and made his way there. He steeled his nerves and buzzed the door. It slid open.

“Who is it at this time of-?” Jim stopped when he saw Spock standing there. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hello. May I come in?”

“Uh...yes, of course.” Thank goodness it was clean. Jim stepped aside to let him in.

“Thank you.” Spock swept past him and Jim bit his lip, drinking in the sight of him. The man was wearing long black robes...Spock knew what it did to him when he wore black...

Jim swallowed and let the door slide shut. “Can I get you a drink?”

Spock sat on Jim’s couch and met his gaze. “Hot chocolate?” he entreated.

“This really is a social call,” Jim mumbled. He went over to his replicator and retrieved the warm mug, then poured himself a jigger of Romulan ale. “My private stock,” Jim said. “It’s not illegal out here.” He raised his glass to Spock. “Here’s lookin’ at you,” he said in a softer tone, gazing at the Vulcan fondly.

Spock smiled back, then looked down at his mug. “You remembered the marshmelons.”

Jim chuckled, sitting beside him. “And you still can’t say ‘marshmallow’ right.”

“In fact I can. But I know it amuses you when I do not,” Spock said, smirking over the rim of his mug as he took a deep drink.

Jim bit his lip and swallowed down his liquor, matching Spock’s pace. He poured himself another finger. “So...not that I’m not glad to see you...but what do I owe the pleasure? I haven’t seen you around since that little bastard Garak shut down my bar...”

“You’ve surely observed the heightened security on the station,” Spock said.

Jim scowled into his glass. “Indeed I have.”

“You know I am the author of _The Aspiration_ papers,” Spock said flatly.

Jim’s eyebrows shot up. “So it _is_ you. I suspected it must be. You had a great uncle named Selek, didn’t you?”

“I did. I am surprised you remember.”

“Of course I did. I remember everything about you,” Jim babbled, suddenly maudlin from the alcohol. “You had a pet sehlat named I-Chaya when you were growing up. Your father taught you how to play the Vulcan lyre. Your mom fed you plomeek soup when you were sick even though it’s vile. You love Italian food...you have a tattoo of a snake on your thigh from your _kahs’wan_...” Jim reached out, almost as if to touch it. Then he froze and shook himself out of his reverie, feeling slightly dizzy. “Whoa. I forget how strong that Romulan stuff is.”

“Jim, I have something to ask you,” Spock said, setting aside the now empty mug and looking down at his hands. “The Cardassian overseers are looking for me—Selek. I suspect they already know of my _nom de plume_ and and seeking the right opportunity to arrest me for conspiring with the Bajoran freedom fighters. I need transport away from here, desperately.” Spock looked into Jim’s eyes. “I need your help.”

Jim froze for a second. “How can I...? Oh. I see. My supply ship. You know the Cardies don’t check it.”

Spock nodded silently.

Jim started to chuckle darkly. He set his glass down with just a little too much force. “Well, well, well. Look who’s so eager to get on a ship now.”

“Jim, I know you don’t owe me anything. I can give you money in exchange for-”

“I don’t want your damn money,” Jim growled, getting up from the sofa. “I don’t want _anything_ from you. You have the _nerve_ to waltz in here and ask me for a _favor?_ After the hell you put me through?!”

“Jim, this isn’t for me, it’s-”

“Oh yeah, I know. Here we go, Mister Sanctimonious! Mister Life-in-the-Service-of-Others! Tell me, Spock, what is it like to be a saint?”

“The Bajorans need my help,” Spock insisted, standing up as well. “The Federation’s help. And I need yours.”

“Well isn’t that special.”

“You could come with me,” Spock said softly. “If you like.”

Jim barked out a laugh. “I’m a Starfleet deserter, you know that. The minute I cross into Federation space, my ass is behind bars.”

“My parents have influence with the Federation, they could put in a good word for you. Wouldn’t it be nice to see your brother again? To not be a hunted man?”

Jim shrugged. “I like my life here. I have my bar, I turn a reasonable profit. Plus all the free booze I can stomach.”

Spock stared at him with big, sorrowful brown eyes. “What happened to the man I once loved?” he said.

“You broke his heart and ruined his life, now he’s a bitter alcoholic who hasn’t gotten laid in three years. I’m not helping you.”

“James...if you ever really loved me...if those days in Shi’Kahr meant anything to you-”

“Don’t bring up that place,” Jim hissed. “It’s bad salesmanship.”

Spock decided to change tactics. “Then I promise, I will leave, and you will never hear from me again if you do this one, simple-”

Jim laughed bitterly. “You really don’t get it, do you, sweetheart? After all these years, you still don’t know a damn thing about me. Well I’ll tell you what, Spocko. As far as I’m concerned, you can rot on this station with me until the end of time! Because I’m never helping you leave!”

Spock’s eyes turned hot with the power of his fury. “You are _pitiful_. You take your anger with me out on an entire planet of innocent people. You are cowardly and petty and pathetic, and I don’t know how I ever could have loved you.”

Jim extended his arms in a dramatic shrug. “Well...now you know.” With a smirk, he turned and poured himself another drink.

Spock frowned, realizing there was only one option left for him. He reached into his robe for an item concealed in a secret pocket...

Jim turned back with his drink. “Did you really think I would-?” He froze, eyes locked on the phaser clenched in Spock’s hand, aimed right at his chest.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this,” Spock whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I must. You must assist me in escaping Terok Nor. If not, Bajor may be plunged into slavery forever.”

“I refuse,” Jim said softly.

“I will shoot you,” Spock warned.

Jim set his drink down. “Alright. You do that, sweetheart. Put me out of my misery. Once I’m out of your way, you’ll be able to find out for yourself when the next supply ship comes and escape on it. Here, I’ll make it easy for you..” He crossed the room toward him till the end of the slim hand phaser was pressed against his heart. “Go ahead,” Jim said again, hands coming up to cover Spock’s. “You already killed me once...might as well finish the job.” There were tears welling up in Jim’s eyes.

Spock shook against him. Jim squeezed his hand. “Come on, Spock. Do it. _Kill me_,” he choked.

Spock set his jaw, tears springing up in his own eyes. He trembled even harder. He took a deep breath...

...and dropped the phaser.

He roughly grabbed Jim by the arm muscles. “How dare you,” he said in a deadly whisper.

He marched Jim backward across the room and pushed him up against the wall. “How _dare_ you throw your life away like that!” Spock exclaimed.

It was unclear who made the move to kiss whom—perhaps it was a joint effort—but suddenly their mouths were crashing into each other’s with unbridled anger and passion. It looked less like kissing than trying to bite each other’s lips off. Jim curled a leg around Spock’s, and Spock clenched a handful of Jim’s thick hair and tugged, making Jim moan.

Frantic hands found their way to buttons and zippers. Spock buried his face in Jim’s neck, licking and nipping at his throat like a wolf devouring its prey. His hand slid into Jim’s open jeans and cupped his rapidly growing hardness through his underwear. Jim let out a whine, clinging to him.

“Tell me where your bed is, or I will fuck you right here,” Spock hissed in his ear.

Jim babbled something and pointed in the vague vicinity of his bed in the next room. Spock scooped him up and Jim wrapped his legs around his waist, furiously making out with him as Spock carried him into the other room. The Vulcan’s arms wound around his back like a protective cage as Spock laid him down on the firm mattress. Jim cried out again as Spock ground their hard, still clothed cocks against each other. “Fuck me, fuck me,” he found himself begging.

Spock pulled away, somewhat to Jim’s regret, and moved down his body. He pulled the hem of Jim’s t-shirt up and wrapped his lips around one nipple.

“Oh, _fuck!_” Jim gasped. Spock _knew_ how sensitive they were.

Spock was showing no mercy, either. As he sucked and tugged with his teeth on one, he almost cruelly pinched and twisted the other between his strong fingertips. Jim arched, crying out. He had always loved when he and Spock made sweet, tender love to each other in the old days, but this hot, angry, rough sex was definitely doing it for him as well.

(It couldn’t hurt that the only lover Jim had had in the last three years was his right hand, either.)

Jim tried to push on Spock’s shoulders. “Spock, _please_-”

Spock immediately grabbed Jim’s wrists and pinned them above his head with _just_ the right amount of force. Jim gasped.

“You will keep these here until I say otherwise,” Spock snarled, and Jim shivered, his cock throbbing. Spock was in complete control here and they both knew it.

Spock slid back down, past Jim’s abused nipples, and thankfully took the human’s leaking cock out of his underwear. Jim tried to buck into his grasp, but Spock simply held his hips pinned. Then he leant down and opened his mouth, swallowing Jim whole.

Jim moaned shamelessly, too far gone to even care if the whole station could hear him. Spock bobbed furiously on his cock, and Jim’s orgasm rose quickly. “Spock!” he gasped. “Spock, I’m going to-!”

Spock simply sucked him harder, and Jim silently screamed as he came in Spock’s mouth. He convulsed with pleasure, toes curling and pelvis jumping uselessly against Spock’s ironclad grip. Spock milked him till he was soft and so sensitive it was almost painful. Spock finally go with a pop. “You have lubricant, yes?” he said, in a tone of voice that let Jim know that Spock wasn’t done with him yet, not by a long shot.

Jim wordlessly pointed to the small table by his bed.

“Good. I will make you hard for me again, and then I will fuck you. Do you agree?”

Jim squeaked and nodded, already on the way to becoming aroused again from Spock’s words alone. Spock _never_ swore before.

Spock made quick work of both of their clothes, and Jim was quick to pull the Vulcan’s naked body against him. They kissed deeply as Spock’s slick shaft rubbed against Jim’s stirring erection. Jim bit Spock’s lip and squeezed his pert ass. Spock bucked up against him. Jim smirked.

Spock slicked his fingers with lube and parted Jim’s legs to give him access to his tight hole. Jim hissed as Spock pushed two fingers inside him. “Careful...it’s been a while...”

Spock nodded apologetically, then curled his fingers inside him, stroking that sweet spot than made Jim moan. Spock lowered his face, and Jim soon felt a cool, soothing tongue lapping at his entrance alongside the fingers, and he yelped.

Two fingers became three, and three became four. “I’m ready,” Jim pleaded. “Please, Spock...”

Spock pushed into him and wasted almost no time at all, thrusting slowly into him. The steady rhythm had Jim groaning, and his legs hooked themselves around Spock’s waist so he could go deeper. Spock took this as encouragement and went faster. Soon they were close, fucking frantically, panting and gasping with need. Spock bit down on Jim’s shoulder and that was all it took for the human to go off like a bottle rocket. Spock soon followed after, driving his cum deep inside him.

Spock gently scooped up a still shivering Jim and moved them both under the covers. Jim nestled into Spock’s chest, and Spock stroked his sweaty back soothingly.

When Jim finally came back to himself, the first thing he said was: “_Wow_.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied.

“I’ve really missed this...not just the sex. The...all of it. You.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Spock whispered, squeezing him as if he might not let go. “So very much.”

“You can’t leave me again,” Jim moaned, burying his face in Spock’s neck. “I can’t take it.”

“I don’t think I could either. Not now. Not after this.”

“There’s been no one else, Spock. No one but you. There couldn’t be...you ruined me for anyone else.”

“My _t’hy’la_...” Spock stroked his hair. “We cannot be parted again...but I also have an obligation to help the Bajorans. So what are we to do?”

Jim looked up at him. He let out a sigh, smiling reluctantly, knowing what he had to do. “Okay. You win. We’ll leave Terok Nor...together.”

“But you’ll be arrested...”

Jim shrugged. “Maybe your parents can offer me asylum. Or I can use an alias. I’m sure I can get my hands on a DNA scrambler if necessary, if they try to find me through genetic tracing. But I doubt I’d need it. It’s been three years...in the long scheme of things, what’s one little deserter? Worse comes to worst, I’ll serve some time on a penal colony. They’ll go easier on me if I turn myself in.”

Spock smiled sadly at him. “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing his forehead.

“Don’t worry about it anymore, sweetheart,” Jim said, pulling him closer. “I’ll contact my cargo ship and take care of everything. You can beam back to Bajor tomorrow and let your people know you’ve got a ticket out of here. Just...stay with me for tonight.”

“Yes,” Spock whispered as they both nodded off to sleep. “Just for tonight.”


	5. Always And Never Parted

_Jim’s_ reopened three days later, much to the delight of everyone on the station. Not even the Cardassians wanted to be without their main source of alcohol for too long, so Gul Dukat begrudgingly allowed the bar to operate again. Everyone assumed that was why their local bartender seemed so happy.

Only one person would have suspected the truth.

Garak’s reptilian eyes followed the Vulcan out of the corner of his eye as he made his way through the bar. He knocked on the door to Jim’s office, the human opened the door, grinned brightly, and let him in. The door shut and Garak smirked.

* * *

Jim pushed Spock up against the wall and kissed him firmly, letting out a low moan. “Hello,” he said huskily.

“Hello,” Spock replied, smiling gently. “I see you’ve detested my absence as much as I have yours.”

“You use so many words just to say ‘I missed you’,” Jim chortled. “Which by the way, I have. Missed you.”

“I gather your message was about more than sharing physical affection in your office?” Spock murmured, kissing the shell of Jim’s ear. They’d been keeping their communication as minimal as possible to avoid arousing the suspicions of the Cardassians who were watching Spock so closely.

“Mmm,” Jim sighed. “Yes. Yes! The ship, my transport ship. It comes tomorrow night. Can you be ready by then to leave?”

“Of course.” Spock squeezed Jim’s forearms. “This is it, then? Our escape?”

“Yeah. Everything will be right now. You’ll get to save the day.”

Spock rested his forehead against Jim’s. “And you’ll be with me...which reminds me. I have a rather large question to ask you.” Spock stepped away, hands behind his back, seeming almost nervous.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Jim asked.

Spock turned back to him. “I should have thought of this course of action the other night. There is an easier potential means of communication between us that I have overlooked, one that the Cardassians will not be able to track.”

“There is? What is it?” Jim said excitedly.

“A...telepathic link. You could contact me with a mere thought, and vice versa.”

“Like...a bond?” Jim said hesitantly.

“Indeed.”

“But...” Jim swallowed. “I thought only..._spouses_ developed those on Vulcan.”

“Well...yes. They do.”

“But so then...what you’re asking me is..._essentially_-”

“Will you marry me?” Spock finished breathlessly.

Jim exhaled shakily, his knees going weak all of a sudden. He covered his hand to his mouth and leaned against the wall.

“I do not ask this out of mere convenience,” Spock continued. “I take the prospect of us life-bonding quite seriously. In truth...I always intended to ask you to bond with me. You are my _t'hy'la_, the one whose mind and soul perfectly matches my own. You are the ideal mate for me. I have known this from the moment you first touched me. And I believe you meant to ask me to marry you at some point as well.”

“I did,” Jim breathed. “But that was so long ago...”

“It is true, and three years can greatly alter a person and their feelings. If you no longer desire this, or would need more time, I would understand completely, and would not hold it against you.”

“No,” Jim said softly, crossing the room. He took Spock’s hands in his and smiled tearfully. “I’m ready. You’re the love of my life, Spock. This is it. Bond with me.”

Spock exhaled in relief. Then he raised his hand to Jim’s face and connected their minds. “My mind to your mind...my thoughts to your thoughts...”

They both gasped as they felt their souls entwine, becoming indomitably joined into one, single, unbreakable, everlasting cord. A golden shock of pure ecstasy shot through their systems, and they simultaneously shuddered, feeling it not only inside themselves, but reverberated in each other through telepathic feedback. “_Parted from me and never parted_,” Spock whispered breathlessly.

“_Never and always touching_,” Jim finished, sighing. “_And touched_.”

They opened their eyes and held each other’s gaze. They were married.

“Holy shit,” Jim squeaked.

“I must concur,” Spock said, softly chuckled.

“I’m tingling all over,” Jim giggled, lightheaded from the rush of it all. “Is that normal?”

“I have heard of such an occurrence when highly compatible individuals bond,” Spock answered. “I am experiencing a similar sensation myself. It will wear off in a while.”

Jim bit his lip, heat gathering in his groin. “Is an overwhelming wave of lust normal too?” he purred, leaning into Spock.

“That is...our brain chemistry, encouraging us to...” Spock breathed heavily, eyes falling closed, and Jim knew through their new bond that he was feeling it too. “Consummate our union,” Spock struggled. “It activates a primal instinct between two mates to...”

“Completely ravish each other?” Jim suggested, fighting the urge to tackle his mate and rut against him with abandon.

“That is an apt description,” Spock choked. “If only we...were not...at your place of work...”

“I have a Murphy bed in the wall for when I get too drunk to go back to my cabin.”

“That will do.”

“Computer, security lock the door, James Alpha-Alpha-Zero-Four-Three!” Jim hurriedly punched a button on his comm. “Rom!”

“_Uh, yes, boss?_” said the Ferengi over the comm.

“Whatever you do, do _not_ bother me for the next thirty minutes. I don’t care if there’s a fire or a Klingon invasion out there!”

“_Yes, boss!_” Rom replied, sounding alarmed.

Jim shoved the desk back and pulled the bed down from the wall and pressed Spock onto it, kissing him frantically and stripping off their clothes. “Oh God...it’s not an ideal honeymoon spot...” he moaned.

“When we return to the Alpha Quadrant, we will take time away from everything else to simply enjoy ourselves and our new bond at our own leisure,” Spock panted. “But for right now...”

“I need you,” Jim said for him, grabbing lotion from his desk that he kept around for when his hands got dry. It wasn’t lube, but they’d have to make do.

* * *

Garak turned off his earpiece and placed it into his pocket. He was a spy, not a voyeur.

So Kirk _was_ planning to help the Vulcan leave Bajor. He’d suspected it would come to this. It was for this exact reason why, while the bar had been closed, he’d taken the liberty of planting a bug in Jim’s office.

Garak smirked to himself. The fools.

* * *

Spock had his head pillowed on Jim’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. He sighed contentedly, stroking his fingers lightly up and down Jim’s arm. The human’s heart rate increased, and Spock smiled.

“Don’t act so smug,” Jim chuckled, able to feel him through the bond. “You’ve always known what you do to me.”

“It is a pleasing reaction nevertheless,” Spock replied. He closed his eyes.

_Promise me we’ll be happy like this forever_, he thought.

Jim stroked his husband’s hair. _Much longer than that, sweetheart_, he vowed.

Spock sighed reluctantly and lifted his head. “I should go. I’ve spent too much time here already.”

“Tomorrow night,” Jim repeated. “Then we’ll be on our way.”

The two reluctantly got up and put their clothes back on. “Meet me here at 2100 hours,” Jim said. “I’ll get us past security and then, we’ll be out of here.”

Spock stared at him with a tender smile. “I love you, _ashayam_,” he whispered. It was a big deal for him to say those words, as the Vulcan didn’t often express himself in emotional language. Jim was touched.

The human pulled his husband in for one last kiss, then pushed him through the door roughly back out into the bar. “You shitbag Federationer!” Jim shouted, baring his teeth at the Vulcan. “Don’t you _ever_ come in here again, you hear me?!”

Spock frowned sharply at Jim. “I do not merit such brutish treatment, Mr. Kirk,” he said loudly for their audience to hear. “And I would not patronize your substandard tavern if it were the last vendor of comestibles in the quadrant. Good day.”

As Spock pretended to storm out in a huff, Jim glared at the shocked customers. “Well?! What are you all looking at?!”

Everyone quickly turned back to what they were doing. Jim crossed his arms. “That’s what I thought,” he said, before returning to his office. _I love you,_ he added mentally.

Garak rolled his eyes. Others may have been fooled by the bartender and the Vulcan’s little pantomime, but anyone could look at Jim’s mussed hair and kiss-bruised lips and tell he and Spock had been engaged in coitus. _Really_.

* * *

The next day Jim was strolling down the Promenade to treat himself to one last jumja stick when his ears perked up at the sound of a high pitched whine. He turned to see a young boy, probably seven or eight—the same age as Jim’s nephew would be—being shoved down by a Cardassian guard. “Bajoran filth,” guffawed the Cardassian.

The little boy grimaced, clutching his skinned knee.

“Hey!” Jim shouted at the Cardassian, stomping toward them. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

The Cardassian turned and towered over Jim. “Like who, _you?_” he growled.

Jim puffed out his chest as much as he could. “I see you lay a _finger_ on another kid, you won’t get so much as a glass of ice water in my bar.”

The Cardassian seemed to realize who Jim was and his eyes widened. Then he scowled and half mumbled something as he skulked away.

Jim looked down at the boy. “Come on, kid, let’s patch you up.”

The young Bajoran took Jim’s hand and silently followed him into the empty bar. Jim set him on a table, then retrieved the first aid kit and began cleansing the wound. There were already scars on his knees, which made Jim scowl. This probably wasn’t the first time this had happened. “That guy’s a bully,” he said, trying to make the kid feel better. “Acts like a jerk to people who can’t defend themselves because he’s pathetic and weak.”

The kid was quiet for a moment, then said, “Fuck that guy, he’s a jackass.”

Jim looked up in shock. “_Hey_, you’re too young to be using the F word. You gotta wait till you’re 12 like the rest of us,” he admonished.

The kid shrugged.

“Now...” Jim showed him the band-aids with Bajoran comic book characters on them. “Roboman or Lady Valor?”

The kid pointed. “Lady Valor.”

“Good choice.” Jim peeled the band-aid open and applied some triple antibiotic cream. “What’s your name?”

“Liss Trelpa.”

“Well, Trelpa, why do you like Lady Valor?”

Trelpa shrugged. “Cause she’s a hero. She’s brave, and she always stands up for what’s right, and helps people.”

Jim pursed his lips as he stuck the band-aid over the wound. “Yeah...she’s pretty special,” he muttered. He looked up. “Better?”

Trelpa swung his leg. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Good.” Jim helped him down off the table. Then he handed him his jumja stick. “On my planet, tough guys get lollipops when they get doctored up. I guess this is pretty close.”

Trelpa actually grinned. He clutched the jumja stick and then suddenly hugged Jim’s legs. “You’re just like Lady Valor,” he said.

Jim laughed self-consciously. “I’m really not. I don’t even have a sword.”

Trelpa looked up at him. “Yeah you are,” he said sternly. “That Cardassian and his friends push me down almost everyday. You’re the first person who’s ever stopped to help me. You’re a hero.”

Jim suddenly felt a lump in his throat. “Th-thank you,” he stammered.

Trelpa nodded and ran off, still clutching his jumja stick. Jim sank into a chair, covering his mouth, mind racing.

* * *

That night Jim kept the bar closed. He met up with Rom outside and handed him a bag with a hundred strips of latinum inside. “Here. Your severance pay.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re letting all of us go,” said Rom, clearly upset. “I...I know I’m not the smartest or the best at business...”

“It’s not about that,” Jim reassured him. “Believe me, this is all for your own good. I suspect I’m about to be in a world of trouble and I don’t want you or Leeta or any of the rest in it with me. You’ve been a good employee, Rom, I want you to know that. More than that, you’ve even been a friend, just when I didn’t think I had a single one left in the world.”

Rom was bowled over. “Th-thank you, bo-I mean, Mr. Kir-I mean...Jim.” He grinned shyly. “The station won’t be the same without you...I won’t ever forget you!”

Suddenly breaking down into tears, he threw his arms around the human. Jim sighed fondly and patted the Ferengi on the back. “There, there...”

Rom sniffled and pulled away. “Good luck out there, Jim. I hope I’ll see you again someday.” Lugging his burgeoning bag of riches, he began to waddle away.

“Hey, Rom!” Jim hissed after him. Rom turned around in question. Jim grinned. “Ask Leeta out already. It’s pretty clear you two are made for each other.”

Rom blushed, then gave him a toothy grin and took off.

“He’s quite devoted to you, _ashayam_,” Spock said as he and Kira appeared out of the shadows. Spock was wearing a beanie to hide his ears to keep from drawing attention.

“Yeah, Rom’s as good as they come. Not like other Ferengi—not a selfish bone in his body. And honestly, his real calling is engineering. He’s fixed my replicators with his own two hands so many times I’ve lost count. It’s too bad he’d never get a job like that on a Cardassian station.”

Spock nudged him gently. “Perhaps he will if Starfleet steps in and facilitates this station.”

“As fascinating as a Ferengi’s talents are, can you continue this conversation once you’re on your way?” Kira whispered urgently. “It’s almost time!”

“Just have to grab something from my office and we’ll be off,” Jim replied.

“Well make it fast. We have a transport ship to catch!”

Jim led the other two inside. He looked around and sighed. “I’m kind of going to miss this old place. You spend two years building a business from the ground up, you get attached.”

“Perhaps we can return someday, my beloved,” Spock said.

“I wouldn’t count too much on that, Mister Spock,” said a smooth voice from the shadows. The trio whirled around to see Garak stepping out from concealment, pointing a phaser at them.

“I’ve heard,” said Garak with a satisfied smirk, “that once one enters a Cardassian prison camp, they don’t tend to leave alive.”


	6. Here's Looking At You

“Garak, you son of a bitch,” Jim said through gritted teeth.

“Tut, tut, James. Language. Now, Major Kira, I must insist you deposit that weapon onto the floor. It would be a shame to have to shoot you before Gul Dukat arrives.”

Kira scowled and set her phaser down.

“So how’d you know we’d be here?” Jim asked. “Plant a spy in Kira’s network?”

“Nothing so gauche,” Garak chuckled. “I try not to coordinate with other operatives. It gets rather messy. No, just a simple listening device in your office to let me know all the..._ahem_. _Sordid_ details of your escape plans with Mister Spock.”

“Aw, you pervert!”

“Now the three of you stay right where you are. I’m going to call the Gul and his men here, and then we’ll see-”

A chair behind the Cardassian spy suddenly sprang to life, turning briefly to goo, before solidify into a humanoid shape and whacking him in the head with another chair. Garak went sprawling to the floor, grunting from the brunt of it, and passed out.

Kira’s face lit up. “Odo!”

“I did tell you I’d try to do something to help,” the security officer said, setting down the chair. “I’ve been tracking Garak’s movements since he had your bar shut down, Mr. Kirk. I had a hunch he’d try to ambush you tonight.”

“Mr. Odo, you have no idea how grateful I am to you,” Spock said.

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Odo said, gazing at Kira. “I was helping a friend.”

Kira smiled back.

“I’ll grab the documents from my office,” Jim said. “Kira, Odo, you disarm our friend. We’ll take him with us to the docking bay. Can’t have him running off to find Dukat.” He disappeared into his office.

Kira snatched both her weapon and Garak’s, handing one to Odo, and Spock bent down to press his fingers to Garak’s face, reviving him. Garak opened his eyes blearily. “Well, I see I’ve been bested,” he sighed. “Mr. Odo, I’m surprised at you, siding with fugitives and terrorists.”

“I’m siding with what’s _right_, Garak,” Odo spat. “Perhaps you ought to give it some consideration.”

“Get up,” Kira snapped, jerking Garak to his feet. “You’re going to escort us to the docking bay, and if you try any funny business, just remember that Odo and I are armed.”

“As am I,” said Jim, emerging from his office, disruptor pistol clenched in his hand. “Don’t try anything, Garak. Spock _is_ getting on that ship, even if it’s over your dead body.” Jim laced his fingers with Spock’s. “Come on, sweetheart.”

* * *

With Kira’s phaser pressed to the Cardassian’s back, Garak begrudgingly led the way to the docking bay. “What’s your business here?” grunted the guard.

Kira nudged Garak, who cleared his throat. “I’m escorting Mr. Kirk and his staff to their supply ship. They’re here to pick up their cargo.”

“It’s all quite routine,” Odo added. “Kirk’s ship should be on the manifest.”

The guard looked at Jim expectantly. “Papers?”

Jim showed him his PADD. “Authorization right here,” he said in that cool, disinterested voice he’d perfected over the years. He felt something through the bond, like a mental squeezing of the hand.

The guard gave it a passing glance. “Yeah alright, go ahead through.”

The group began to pass by but froze in terror when the guard said, “Just a second,” his eyes fixed on Spock’s back.

Kira’s hand tightened on her weapon, but Spock brushed her elbow. “No. Remain calm,” he breathed.

“What’s his name? The one in the hat?”

“Cicero,” Jim and Spock answered at the same time. They shared a look, hiding smiles. They were on the exact wavelength.

The Cardassian guard glared at Jim. “Does he need you to answer for him?”

“Not at all,” said Spock in a less soothing, more nasal tone of voice that sounded less like a Vulcan. He casually took off his hat. “I am a Romulan. Kirk wanted someone who was good with numbers to handle the finances. These humans are helpless, you know,” he snorted.

“Watch it, Romulan,” Jim spat, mentally congratulating Spock on the deception. “I don’t need you that much. Jobs are scarce on Terok Nor, you’re lucky I hired you at all.”

“Why do you wear that ridiculous hat?” the guard questioned.

“Because it’s cold, obviously.” Spock sniffed and looked the Cardassian. “Any more of my _time_ you’d like to waste with inane questions?”

“I suppose not...and you?” The Cardassian rounded on Kira. “Who are you?”

Kira cleared her throat and took on an innocent giggle. “I’m Mana...the new dabo girl.”

The guard leered down at her. “Good to see some new blood’ll be at the table. Carry on.”

Kira snarled silently at his back when he turned away, and the group hurried on.

Just before they finally arrived at the shuttle bay, Jim turned to Kira and Odo. “Take Dick Steele here and wait out here for our ship to leave. My contact gets jumpy around his type.”

“I find that highly bigoted,” Garak said.

“Shut up,” Kira said, tugging at his doublet.

Jim led Spock through the loading entrances till they reached one with a woman in a tan uniform waiting for them by it. “Thought you weren’t gonna show, Jim,” she said with a smirk.

“Stand you up, Kas? Never.” Jim hugged her briefly. “Captain Kasidy Yates of the _Xhosa_,” he introduced to Spock. “My trusty supply transport.”

Kasidy eyed Spock. “I take it this is the ‘special package’ I’m taking with me?” she said, somewhat amused.

“Don’t worry, he’s already housebroken,” Jim joked.

Kasidy fixed Jim with a hard stare. “The Cardassians find him on my ship, I’m a dead woman. Remind me why I’m helping you?”

“Cause deep down you’re a big ol’ softie?” Jim teased.

Kasidy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Well, let’s get this show on the road. Room for one, dead ahead.”

“There’s two of us going,” Spock said.

Jim shook his head. “No, she’s right...only one.”

Spock looked at him in confusion. “But-”

“There’s no time for arguing about it, now get on that ship.”

“But you are coming with me...aren’t you?”

Jim bit his lip. His eyes fell to the floor, and there was an awful, weightless feeling in his stomach, like just before you take the first drop on a roller coaster.

“No. I’m not.”

Spock’s eyes widened in realization. “No. James, no!”

Jim looked at Kasidy. “Give us a minute?”

“60 seconds, and then I’m taking off. You know I’m counting.” Kas ducked back into her ship to give them some privacy.

Jim took Spock’s hands. “Try to understand-”

“I cannot,” Spock whispered. “What reason would you have for staying? After all this time, why would you have us part?”

“Because I realized that you were right. That I’m a coward. Day after day, people on this station, and that planet down below, are suffering. And me? I sit in my bar and ignore it. I tell myself it’s because I don’t owe anybody anything, but that didn’t stop you from trying to help. You were right, Spock. You were always right. And that’s why I can’t go with you.”

Spock exhaled, realizing Jim’s intentions. “You’re going to stay. You’re going to aid in the Bajorans’ rebellion,” he whispered.

Jim nodded. “Starting next delivery, Kas is going to start supplying me weapons, which I’ll get to Kira. The Cardassians won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“I...I won’t leave then. I shall stay with you.”

Jim laughed bitterly. “Sweetheart, that’s illogical. Garak said it himself, the Cardassians will lock you in a prison camp, and then what good would you be to the cause. No, you’ve gotta get out of here. I wish I could protect you, but this is the best I can do. I can’t pretend I’m a good man...” Jim said, “but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Go home, make your case to the Federation. Help this madness come to an end...be the hero. If all goes as planned...we’ll see each other again someday. Have that honeymoon we talked about.”

“_Ashayam_, please, I only just got you back-!”

“Listen Spock, if you’re not on that ship, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.”

Spock stared at him despondently, knowing this was logic he simply couldn’t fight. “And what about us?” he whispered.

Jim stroked his cheek, leaning in to press his forehead against Spock’s. “We’ll always have Shi’Kahr,” he murmured. “We’d lost it till you came to Terok Nor. We got it back when we bonded.”

Spock embraced him tightly.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you again.”

Jim sniffled. “At least this time we get to say goodbye.”

Kas stuck her head out. “_Five seconds, Kirk!_”

Spock cupped his face and kissed him. Like it was the very last time. “Goodbye...my _t’hy’la_,” he whispered before tearing himself away and disappearing into the ship.

* * *

Jim returned to the others five minutes later, eyes and nose red. “What are you still doing here?” Kira said in surprise. “Aren’t you going with-?”

“No,” Jim said. “Major, I’d like to unofficially enlist in the Bajoran militia. I know I don’t exactly have the nose ridges for it, but-”

“No,” said Kira, suddenly understanding. She smiled. “You’ll do.” She held out a hand to shake. “Welcome back to the fight. This time I know our side will win.”

Jim nodded firmly. Then he looked at Garak. “And what do we do with this one?”

“We could kill him,” Kira said.

“No point in getting Gul Dukat’s attention by murdering one of his best agents,” Odo huffed.

“I’d suggest we keep him locked up in my storeroom but again, that’d get Dukat’s attention too,” Jim said.

“If I may make a suggestion,” said Garak silkily.

Kira rolled her eyes. “This oughta be good.”

“You could let me join your efforts in freeing Bajor.”

Kira laughed loudly. “And they say Cardassians have no sense of humor!”

“Gul Dukat is going to find out that your Vulcan ally has escaped, and when he does, he’ll be looking for an easy scapegoat to pin it on with Central Command—me. So it’d be in my interest to have some, ah, _friends_ on the other side.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you?” Jim laughed. “You’re a _spy_. Lying is your business.”

Just then a platoon of Cardassian guards rushed in. The three renegades hide their weapons behind their backs uselessly. But what was the use? They were caught. Game over.

“Agent Garak, we’ve heard that the Vulcan was making his way to the docking bay. Have you seen him?” asked the platoon leader.

“Why no,” Garak replied, feigning surprise. “I was merely helping Mr. Kirk here rendezvous with his cargo ship.”

Jim, Kira, and Odo stared at him in shock. Why wasn’t he turning them in?

“The Vulcan isn’t in his dwelling on the planet,” the platoon leader growled. “He’s hiding from us. Clearly someone’s harboring him, perhaps helping him leave the system.”

“Then gentlemen, I humbly suggest that you round up...”

Kira tensed, ready to grab her gun and shoot her way out.

“...the usual suspects,” Garak finished.

The Cardassian troop nodded and marched out. Jim stared suspiciously at Garak, who simply smiled up at him serenely. “Well, Master Barkeep? Have I proven myself to you?”

Jim narrowed his eyes, half-scowling, half-smirking. “For now, Garak. For now, we’ll let you live. But no more reporting to headquarters. You’re staying where one of us can keep our eye on you at all times.”

Garak grinned at him mischievously. “You know, James...I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

* * *

As the foursome headed back to the upper Promenade, a tiny flash of light in Jim’s peripheral caught his attention. Jim turned and looked out the window into the vast darkness of space and saw Kasidy’s ship flying away.

Somehow, Jim got the feeling that Spock was looking back at him.

Jim watched the ship fly away and disappear into the black. He closed his eyes and sent one more message through the bond:

_Here’s lookin’ at you, sweetheart_.


End file.
